


Here comes the Thunder

by ramblingfangirl



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Cannibalism, Canon Typical Violence, Cybertron, Gen, Homelessness, Kidnapping, Krok is very young in this and not yet krok, Minor, Pre-War, Rescue Missions, beastformers, the origin of a trend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 22:02:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,217
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15128729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ramblingfangirl/pseuds/ramblingfangirl
Summary: There are several questions that one might wonder about Krok, but as it turned out at least three of them -1) Where did the Scavengers habit of stealing people who would later become friends originate?2) How did he meet Thundersaur?3) How did he incur such a ginormous debt to Thundersaur that he would rescue a prisoner on his request?- all possess the very same answer.





	Here comes the Thunder

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to try write how these two met!  
> As a pre-warning, I also wanted after watching a video with a transformer with one to try find a way to incorporate a Scottish-ish sounding twang. I went with giving one to the saurian and with this format it's sort of butchered.
> 
>  
> 
> Hope you still enjoy!

Thundersaur let out a roar of laughter, hand pounding down onto the ground as he took another swig of engex that was certainly rancid.

The rest of the group howled along with him, before another member of the makeshift gang took a go at trying their just as makeshift game.

When they then failed to hit the target too, it was their turn to take a swig from the cup that was cheerily and drunkenly passed onto them.

This pattern would then repeat several times, the laughter and the misses escalating in their obscenity as the level of rancid engex left in that cup got lower and lower.

One of the gang at some point took it upon themself to try think of a theme song for each and every other member.

All of whom alternated in turn between either cheering him on, joining in or ignoring entirely, depending on what sort of drunken mood struck them.

It wasn’t something particularly sophisticated and were anyone slightly higher in caste to walk by they would certainly sneer at them, but with people like them in a situation like theirs they had to take whatever happiness and fun they could get, whenever they could get it.

Thundersaur himself was nodding his head along without actually joining in with the chorus itself, when the smell hit him.

He sniffed again, inhaling deep.

He knew that anywhere.

_Energon._

Fresh energon. Not the rancid sort they were messing with now.

And it seemed that some of the others were catching onto it too, shuffling around, turning to the direction of where it was coming from.

Even the ones who couldn’t smell it then caught on to that display, knocking into each other and trying to get the ones who could tell to confirm what was going on.

Then they all turned to him, muttering slurred words excitedly.

They wanted to know what to do.

With a grunt, Thundersaur heaved himself up.

“Git food.”

He’d go check it out.

See how much there was to _eat._

Hopefully enough to feed the handful of them.

If not, he’d just have to see who was hungriest.

“Want help boss?”

He declined with a toothy sneer.

Doubted he’d need help chasing out whatever cargo-carrying scrappers had made the wrong turn into _his_ territory.

Never had before, had he?

He then went lumbering off following the trail as the rest resumed their game, each heavy step causing a resounding thud and even the ground itself to shake.

There was no doubt as he went on his way that whoever it was with the energon was going to hear him coming. He could smell that there were a few there, that twang of a particular sort of metal, and at least one of them ought to be on watch for locals.

But he wasn’t worried. Drunken or not, so what if it came to a chase?

He could smell how close they had gotten.

Even if they ran now, they wouldn’t get out of his territory with the loot before he caught them.

There was a strange chittering, growling sound that he heard, _familiar_ enough that it caught his attention, started to get him just that bit suspicious about what was going on.

But that was quickly drowned out by some panicked bleating.

“The frag is that sound!?”

“Someone’s coming you gear-grinder!”

He added an aggressive snarl as he rounded the corner and confirmed the speaker’s fears, making sure to show them all the teeth he had to offer in this mode.

All the easier to scare them off and take their spoils.

Except…he quickly realised that they didn’t have spoils, per say.

The energon he smelt wasn’t from any sort of loot.

No.

In hindsight, this was something he should have picked up on, were he slightly more lucid or slightly less hungry.

Because the energon scent came from something much, much worse.

 “ _Frag!_ Frag he’s huge!”

“Never said any here were this huge!”

_“Scrap!”_

The hulking figure’s thundering steps quickened, snarls turning to a full-on roar at what he was seeing.

Towering over them, he could more than enough see what they were all huddled over.

What they had _cornered_.

And it was one thing, scaring off those that couldn’t fight back.

His people needed food and he couldn’t afford to not take it whenever it was available, lest the lot of them starve to death.

But this…this wasn’t scaring off. This wasn’t about _surviving._

He _had_ optics.

What these mechs were doing, he had seen before. It was very clearly just _sadistic._

 And if they didn’t back off now then Thundersaur was ready to repay that.

Which is why, mid-step, he transformed.

Most took the hint then.

Scarpering, running away from the rampaging reptilian beast heading in their direction.

_Most._

One decided to try to be brave.

“It’s just a beast! Zap it and the dumb thing will back off.”

One, was an _idiot._

Lifting the prod, humming with charge, from it’s original target and held towards him, as if that would be enough to get a furious and engex addled saurian to back off.

Instead the saurian snapped it right off him in one harsh bite before he even got the chance to change his mind, crunching and swallowing it with one gulp.

The prod and a good chunk of his arm.

The idiot howled, clutching the remnants of the tattered limb before Thundersaur slammed his head into him, relishing in watching him go airborne.

He pursued the now fleeing intruder slightly further, snapping at his heels, before holding back, satisfied that they were gone for now.

 _Now_ being the key word here.

They would absolutely be getting some damn stuck-up officers to come _deal_ with them, no matter who had started this.

And while _he_ could deal with them, that would doubtless bring a clampdown on the area which would threaten the rest of his gang.

Forcing himself to think around the fog that rancid engex had on his mind, he rationalised that it was more than time to get what he’d rampaged for and _go._

Transforming back mid-stride, he moved over and crouched down to get as near level to the shaking thing as he could without having to lie down flat.

He paid no heed to the actual snapping beast that seemed to be determined to get him to leave them alone. He could barely even feel it’s denta when it nipped and with his experience and nose he could immediately tell that in this case this _was_ just a beast, _not_ an actual person.

So, his entire attention was instead on the actual person before him.

It was instead on his fellow beastformer.

And what a state it was, the crocodilian thing covered in dents and gashes that were leaking energon, the thing that had very luckily for the croc caught his notice in the first place, or he knew exactly how this would have ended for him otherwise.

“Yer safe now squirt. Up ye git.”

No movement, just denta chattering and him trying to somehow crouch even further back.

So, Thundersaur took things into his own hands, taking a hold of the beastformer with one hand and easily hauling him up as he straightened up.

It was then that the little croc finally transformed.

“Get off me! Let go!” He struggled, banging his arms against the bigger mech and legs wildly swinging for some sort of purchase too.

The beast at Thundersaur’s ankle strut for its part turned even more insistent at the littler mechs increased distress, choosing to now bite down and cling for dear life.

A futile effort as it was easily dragged by each and every stride.

“Stop it!” The rescuee in his arm pleaded again.

“Naw.”  

“Why not?! I don’t have anything! _They_ already took what I had! They took it all and I’m damaged and useless now, so it isn’t practical for you to take me too.” They tried to reason, twitching fingers betraying the anxiety felt for doing so.

Had his mood been less foul and he felt any less pity for the squirt, Thundersaur could have _guffawed_ at this attempt to reason with _him_.

 “ _Idjit_.” He instead grumbled. “They’re _why_ I’m taking ye. They’re _tourists_. High ups come looking for beasts to torture and if that goes wrong, wailing they go to the cops.” He spat out.

“But we willnae be here when they come back.”

This wasn’t the first time he’d had to intervene in such cases.

He did have to wonder though, how many more times it would be until such atrocities stopped taking him by surprise.

“I’m naw lying squirt. Yer safe with me.”

No reply, the croc simply hung there with a sullen look instead.

Thundersaur didn’t mind that though, he wasn’t picky about whether he got some dialogue from them.

Least the thing was still alive, and _he_ was still in the process of being occupied making haste back towards the gang.

No doubt several of them had already picked up on the increased scent of energon and would be getting ready to react to whatever came their way.

Good bunch the lot of ‘em.

 “At least let me pick up my pet. We can’t leave Gatoraider he needs me and he could be useful for you too! How much would you like a new guard animal?” There the squirt went speaking up and trying to logic him again.

If he had to be honest, the only use most animals encountered by him served was as food to him and his gang.

Them or us, what ye gonna do?

But he had a feeling that if he tried that here, the idjit would end up trying to bolt with it the moment he turned his back.

And going by precedent, doubtless end up dead in a ditch somewhere within a vorn.

Hence why he yanked off and up the damn wriggling thing, hissing with bits of his energon caking its mouth and swinging it to its owner still dangling under his own arm.

The owner for his part at least reacted quickly to the swing, grapping Gatoraider and hugging him close, as if seeking some sort of meager comfort.

Really was precious, wasn’t he? Thundersaur thought to himself.

He wondered how _new_ he was, to still be like that while living on the streets.

Something he then went on to vocally ask.

“It’s not my _age_ that’s the problem.” Came a miffed reply. “It’s this _alt!”_

And just like that, the already poor excuse of a conversation took an abrupt and highly political swerve.

“I’m smart!” He cried out. “I could do things with that! Settle down and make a decent living. But all anyone sees is the _alt!_ It’s a beast! Look at the dumb beast! Dance for us beast like the dumb animal you are, or _we’ll use a prod!_ ” He was getting increasingly distressed sounding again as he went on.

“Without it, this wouldn’t have happened!”

“It’s the tourists to blame, not yer alt.” Thundersaur counteracted.

“Ye’ll be grateful for it one day squirt. That alt? Those teeth and claws of yours? They’re what’ll allow you to dig in and get them back. Just look at how fast they ran when I came knocking.” He banged his chassis proudly then, a loud resounding clang sounding off throughout the latest alley that they’d turned into and his drunkenness starting to show again.

“I wouldn’t _need_ the teeth and claws, if people didn’t look down on me for having them.”

“And what ye gonna do about it? You canne change it. No mech can. Just how things are. Lesson number one in these parts, ye just gotta make do and make use of what ye have. Try stay online and in one piece. No pointing wanting for much more.”

“Then why did you save me?” The rescuee snapped, the pet he held snapping along with him

“If we’re supposed to just settle with doing _nothing_ but scrape by and stay out of trouble then why save me?! Why didn’t you just go?!”

Practically, taking the victim of an attack was not the best choice that could have been made. It would have certainly been better for him to just come back alone.

But the other mech had been helpless.

A helpless and useless little thing, even lower down than the saurian was, and unlike him, unable to fight back against those who sought to brutalise.

And Thundersaur had a not so small soft spot for people like that.

Had he not, he would not have had his gang of stragglers in the first place.

He would have remained as solitary as he’d been at his start.

And that wasn’t the way to be.

But that’s _not_ the reply he gave to the questioner.

Because he didn’t think that was something someone ought to be _told._

“Any luck, you’ll understand _why_ yerself someday.”

And some day, the mech who would come to be a scavenger named Krok _did._

He did, just as surely as he did not forget the debt that he felt had been incurred by what Thundersaur had done for him.

He did, just as surely as he went on to repay it.


End file.
